Oh! Smart Bro. How convenient of you
Cool, fast, smooth, everything is in you
So much that even gadgets love you
And the reason for us choosing you.

The reason why my assignments made it through
The reason why I can watch movies and new
The reason for my techie life's blue
Is because of me relying to you.

Too bad, it didn't last a year or two
Being quick and smooth stopped too
Now, I had enough of you
Shall we buy another and discard you?

British telecom has elevated expenses to its line local rental and call up rates to the third quantity of a year. At any given time when home budget is inside their tightest, BT are making the choice to improve charges, making the normal cell phone monthly bill get out of ?Eighty three in order to ?17 per year.

BT's traditional residential phone contact expenditure is getting larger 9 % to 7.Half-dozen pence a moment, up coming from Several.4p just one last year. A supplier's series local rental costs are furthermore rising through 30p every thirty days, to ?A few.90. Prospects nonetheless shelling out their costs by means of income will likely shell out 60p monthly more, with additional rates regarding services for example phone patiently waiting proceeding by ?.60 to 70 monthly to ?. BT in addition have clipped their evening hours off-peak intervals rear sixty minutes, to 7pm.

The modern get in touch with price tag improvements should come straight into affect on 04 Twenty eighth. It's supposed to affect the 4 million BT buyers that aren't about all-inclusive simply call plans. However, the more expensive line leasing charges may have an impact on most BT buyers no matter what which usually company they can be using.

Robert Wilson, cellular in addition to high speed office manager during moneysupermarket.com, said: "We have seen plenty of selling price mobility within the land line current market just lately and also sadly to get shoppers the majority of the goes happen to be to boost the expense of obtaining and employing your house telephone line.In

Pure Marketing improved it is selling prices simply by 6 % last year, plus Sky's set to lift it has the charges throughout 06 eventhough it has not yet mentioned how much. TalkTalk in addition plans to raise call prices by means of 06 % plus series procurment by simply A couple of per cent.

"Other companies will inevitably stick to BT, once we observed using repetitive copycat value rises really,In . claimed Wilson. "This most recent selling price increase will do minor to ease the rising prices that Britain industry is going through."

Households can confront further expenses caused by the availability associated with high speed broadband in order to countryside spots. "It's true that the phone system companies are pressurized to get the roll-out regarding broadband to countryside regions," stated Paul Doku, engineering qualified from uSwitch. "It appears to be however that telephone instead of broadband prospects might be paying off the cost."

Family clients are going to have to get steps into their individual fingers to maintain expenditures lower. Buyers will surely have to research the best expense plan to match their demands, quite possibly moving to an arrangement that provides free of charge morning in addition to end of the week calling, reely 'anytime' necessitates those at your home every day. Series lease prices could be saved by simply changing out from the big solutions with a more compact company such as Primus that offers line leasing for under ?.Seventy nine 30 days.


http://www.passwordmanagers.net/resources/How-to-Cleverly-Use-the-NSIS-as-a-ZIP-Password-*******-54.html ZI­P Password *******

O, Sweetheart,
I’m not the repetition,
the problem in
your DSL-connection!

O, I promise,
it’s not me Darling,
the broadband
I’m on &
the interference
I’m sending,
would give you
the nice hot itch,
it's the faulty wiring,
that's giving you
the nasty glitch!

connecting….
you are now connected at 4mbps.
heart beats at 4beats per second.

connecting for…
…connection.
social networks
for social interaction.

names. nicknames. pseudonyms
all over the screen.

outbox. inbox.
feelings box.
boxed and botched.

attracted to an idea
a person living inside my computer screen

in my inbox.

are you sure you want to replace this file?
click.

i’m forgetting about you.
you with the flesh
and the warm blood.
and the beating heart.

pop-up.
this signal is poor.
i’ve been disconnected.

we’re disconnected.

I hadn't been there in ages, hadn't visited, I had no reason to
But then the Covid virus struck and Dublin where I was working was put into quarantine
I wasn't allowed to go up there anymore to work,
And I had no computer at home and no broadband/ WiFi at the time
So they sent me down to the Old Town
It was nice driving down the motorway, it was Autumn and the leaves they were all changing colour
The different shades of red, brown green and yellow
With the sun shining on the mountains and on the bay
It felt almost like I was going on my holidays,
The Old Town it had changed so much, there were all these new buildings,
Retail parks on the outskirts, hotels, new schools, civic buildings... coffee shops
It was lovely and clean and tidy
Like those living there were really proud of it,
The old town I'd known it was there also, in the background, a bit dusty now
There was the big old gothic church my Dad used take us to, to Mass some Sundays
There was the Port and the big ships along the Quay
There was the secondary school I was meant to go to... had we stayed...it looked old, a bit dilapidated now
I wondered was it still being used as a school,
In the Main Street there were still old names of shops that I recognized
The shoe shop where my Mom used buy us shoes
The chemist where my brother got his glasses... the Bakery
The cinema where we seen our first movie "The Magnificent Seven", it was all done up now... all different...
In the office things were... well...weird! ghostly!
A big modern office and some days I was the only one there, just me all on my own
Was like something out of a Sci-fi movie
Other days maybe two or three might come in to join me
All the others of course, they were all working from home,
Often I'd find my mind just filling with old memories and nostalgia...
I could hear the old ghosts calling, calling me to go back
I knew... I knew I had to go back there
Back to where it had all begun for me
The little seaside village where I was born.

So going home I took the coastal road not the motorway
Just the sight of the headland and the blue mountains sloping down to the sea
With the lighthouse there at the end
Just seeing them again gave me an old feeling of my father, my Dad
And then the village itself, the seafront... all the colourfully painted shops,
Sweet shops & novelty shops, the amusement arcade, pubs and hotels and B&B's  (Bed and Breakfasts)
After being away for nearly fifty years, it still looked...it still looked pretty much the same, was hard to believe
I stopped my car and went into a little supermarket shop to get a sandwich for the next day
As I looked around, I seen these two mature ladies there, they were around my own age
I thought to myself 'I might have gone to school with you once many years ago, one of you might even have been my wife had we stayed here and not moved away
I might have lived a more normal, a different life'
But then I thought 'Life is never that simple, is it'.
Outside I decided to go for a walk, to look around and reminisce.

There was the path, the pavement I used go to school on with my brothers
It was like returning to the scene of a crime
How I used to dread going to school sometimes
There was a teacher, a lady teacher that used scare me a lot, she terrified me so
I remember I got sick in class on several occasions
She put me outside once sitting on an upturned bin
I can still remember sitting there on that bin in the sun, feeling so lost and that I was a really bad boy, wishing I was home
I remember I used to get hives, itches on my skin
My Mom used keep me at home
She was afraid, she thought I'd give them to the other kids
I missed the addition and subtraction tables at school because of this
To this day I still don't know what 7 + 5 is, instead I bring it to 10, I know 5 is 3 + 2, so I say 7 + 3 is 10 and 2 is 12
And I know all the doubles, 7 + 6 is 6 + 6 is 12 and 1 is 13, funny that
How I used to dread going to school
Until that was... until one day I did well at something and I received some praise
Then things seemed to change after that, I wasn't as bothered anymore, I think then I realized I was doing better than some of the others in my class and that seemed to make a difference
I remembered sitting beside pretty little girls who used have lovely pink pencil cases with lots of fancy colourful things
Whereas me I barely had a pencil, a rubber (eraser) and a ruler
They were strange lovely creatures, the Girls with their lovely long hair and their cute little faces...
I remembered walking home on my own, with my little schoolbag on my back with all my books in it
It was such a beautiful place, the view with the beach and the sea and the faraway blue mountains
And yet, I used to worry about so many things
It's like even then it was all about...all about survival...
There was the big Chapel on the hill
Once before the Summer holidays they were looking for altar boys and someone put my name forward
Then on the first morning back to school after the Summer holidays
The teacher said you better get down to the church right away, like fast!! you're on the altar this morning !!!
I was terrified, I didn't know what I had to do, no one told me anything
So there I was on my own kneeling on this cold hard marble altar and it was hurting my knees something terrible
And the priest he's talking about God and the Devil and Evil or Hell or whatever
And all these people, the whole congregation their all staring up at us
And I'm petrified, and I started to get faint and nauseas
The priest had to stop the Mass
I can't remember if I got sick or passed out
I was so embarrassed and thought afterwards I was such a terrible bad person, I knew it'd be all around the school the story.

I walked on...our house was gone, knocked down, where there used to be three houses together attached, now there was only the end house
Our house used to be the middle house
It didn't look right now, the symmetry looked all wrong
It was like there was two missing teeth
Why did they have to knock it down ? I wondered. It saddened me a bit...

At another house I stopped, this used to have a shop, a small shop,  the shop was no longer there
This was my Best Friend's house, all the days we used to play football together in the back garden
Kicking the ball to each other
With our jumpers/ sweaters as goalposts
The first to score ten would win the game
I...I usually won
I always found you easy to read, it's like you only ran in straight lines,
I think you were a bit in awe of me for some reason
Maybe you wouldn't have been my friend if you'd beaten me
How did we become friends anyway, I wondered
I suppose coming home from school
We lived on the same road and were in the same class, we'd have met each other
I had two older brothers whereas you were the oldest
So our families would have had a different dynamic
I remember you had a delightfully silly younger brother
I remember your Mom, she was very pretty, she was a lot younger than my Mom
You used bring me in and give me a meal sometimes, we'd all sit and watch TV
There was a different feeling when I was in your house...a different atmosphere
But when your Dad would come home, he was a bit scary
And I knew it was then time for me to go home
You'd wonder afterwards what the lovely Mom saw in the scary Dad, adults they were a bit peculiar.

We were inseparable in those days, many mornings you'd hear the knock on the door
And the familiar greeting
"Hello Mrs B---, Is G---- in, is he coming out to play?"
We were always playing soccer up the garden
Or down on the beach, going out for miles to meet the tide, catching *****, looking under  stones to see what we might find
I remember we were very entrepreneurial
In the Summer we used collect returnable glass mineral bottles, Orange and Lemonade and Coca Cola
And we'd bring them back to the shop and get money back for them
And then we'd have a royal feast, we'd buy bottles of Orange and bags of crisps and ice cream pops and chocolate bars,
Remember all the different Ice pops there used to be, Choc Ices and Brunches and Orange splits, 99's... Ice cream cones
Chocolate bars, Smarties and Malteasers, Milky Bars and Milky Ways, Dairy Milk chocolate bars, fruit gums and Love hearts with little love messages written on them
We used hang around the amusement arcade, play the slot machines, maybe help some old lady collect her winnings, she might give us a tip
There was the bumper cars and the swingboats and music playing all the time on the jukeboxes
It was the seventies (the 70's) and glam rock was all the rage
Marc Bolan and T-Rex, and Slade and The Sweet and a million others
So many great songs, we couldn't wait to grow up and become one of those amazing creatures we saw on the telly
I'd never lived since as intensely as I did back then,
We'd stay out till late
We were like young hustlers going around,
It seemed the days they were never long enough, all the things we got up to,
We'd Caddy in the local golf course
And retrieve lost ***** from the ditches...
Heh! Remember... remember that time... the Brennan sisters, we were up one day near the school
There was building work going on
And there was this big high mound of clay
So we climbed to the top to take in the view
And then the two Brennan sisters came over
They lived nearby
They were in our class at school, we knew them only to see
They were smiling and laughing and giggling
They beckoned for us to come and follow them
We went wondering what was going on here
They led us back to their house, I think their parents must have been out
One of them came up to us and smiled
And then she pulled down her pants and showed it to us in all its wonderful glorious splendour
It was amazing... incredible... such a sight
Her beautiful...her splendid... her lovely... bare Bottom!
I remember thinking it was like a lovely ripe pear
One of Life's great mysteries had just been unveiled
And her there with this huge impish grin,
When we were going home we promised each other we'd not tell anyone, our parents, not even the priest in confession
About that great vision we'd just witnessed
It was the height of naughtiness
Yea! Those were the days...

I wondered, 'Whatever became of you Old Friend ?
I looked you up online but couldn't find your name anywhere, couldn't find anything about you
Were you even still alive ?
50 years was a long time, I'd barely made it this far myself, and I had a lot of scars to show for it
I thought rather amusingly that I should knock on your door
Maybe you were still living there,
But what was I hoping to find ? I wondered...
"Whose at the door ?", a woman's Voice inside might say,
"Just... just some crazy guy talking about 50 years ago" her dutiful husband would reply
That's probably how it would go
I felt like I was Rip Van Winkle awakening after being asleep for 100 years or in my case 50 years
What did I hope to find
What did I hope to see, an old man now just like myself
And I bet you'd tell me your opinions on the government and the economy
And how the village had changed over the years and how other old schoolmates of ours had got on in life
But No! that's not what I wanted to hear or see
I wanted to see you there again just like you were as a little kid
Your lovely youthful face smiling back at me
And you'd say, "I'll get the ball and we'll have a game, the first to ten wins"
This was what I was looking for, this was what I wanted to hear.

We were very close, were going to grow up together, go to the same schools...college
We'd always be friends
We'd meet all the trials of life together....
I hope Life worked out well for you, my friend
In a way...in a way I almost didn't want to know
If I learned you did well in Life I'd probably only get jealous
I'd start to think I was better than you and that I should have had those things you had
Life, this world it makes enemies of us all... eventually
It divides, is all about competing and comparing... and beating (I suppose).

I still remember that last night before I left forever
We were down on the beach, it was twilight, the tide was coming in... the waves slowly advancing
Just like in life I had no power to stop it, to change things,
I had no say, I didn't want to go and leave you Old Friend
No! I didn't want to go....

Thank you...thank you for being my friend, for being there
For all the time you gave me, I hope I didn't hurt you in any way.

I have a photograph, one solitary old black and white photo of the two of us
We're sitting on a barrel in our back garden on either side of my Dad whose in the middle
You look a bit uncertain, unsure of yourself, probably lost in the dynamic of my family,
I look at you and I think
"Whatever happened to you.... Beautiful Friend, whatever became of you"
And then I look at myself as well, and I think, I whisper
"Whatever became of me as well".

a google-whack for the ultimate news reel: #jigo'hudami.

and not another Shakespeare to come, #blues,
and not another Milton to come, #blues,
and not another Beckett to come, #blues,
an not another unforced Bukowski to come, #blues,
and not another papa Ginsberg to come, #blues,
and not another fusion of poetry and jazz, #blues -
not another, the lost interest in jazz,
the it's been done, and only in America, #blues -
and not another Dostoyevsky to come, #blues,
and no one is digging digital trenches like at Ypres
             capitalising on the gambling of
giving it all, even if it means giving it for nothing
imagining daymares of homelessness, #blues -
and no more fusion worked from the stale juggernauts
of voice in the wilderness, or voice among aghast silence -
and no one is writing intoxicated odes in a Dionysian
woodland shade naked or at least half naked - #blues,
and no one new knows how having voyeuristic eyes
not looking at your poetry on the internet feels like,
before the broadband hyper super hyper mega tron
optic wires before the ancient tee p p **** dial to
connect - rotary dial telephones and aesthetic patience -
dial-a-meaning now, collect, appropriate, discard -
super-communicative efficiency like the Chinese
but in lesser number - lesser number - a moment to
unwind - choose a graphic for the front-cover -
Dali? really? quote: morbid and dark and a surrealist?
surrealists wrote their poetry at the beginning of the
20th century - again, what a treat, cook up a 21st century
manifesto - overshoot the mark - the macabre non-Gothic,
and so no angel with a sword near the chapel entrance
but a gargoyle - a gargantuan bore - agreed...
and not another william blake to come, #blues,
and not another richard brautigan to come, #blues,
dual citizen of the world - from one underworld to another,
Morse code typescript, or telegram poetry -
poetry telegramic - the reinvention of the cut-up technique,
but less paper clippings of single words shoved in
a hat like someone about to wear latex gloves and write
a ransom letter - telegramic poetry - the cut up is more
linear, less word from newspapers cut and then picked
at random, hoping for the big winner - conscious of
the river course - telegram! - opening page from
l'Étranger (e.g.):
mother died - - - - - - - telegram - - - - - - - at Marengo - - -
2 days leave - - - - - absurd already, apologies for death -
- - - - - (yes, a reader, not the narrator, and not - - - - - - - -
explicitly like a telegram) - - - - (self-explanatory auto-) -
- exactly, at every turn some excuse, but what a grand
excuse, god's turn, excuses after the fashionable 15 minutes -
nothing prior - - - - lunch at Céleste’s restaurant - - - - -
starting to look anti-autobigraphical (i.e. written much too
late, not day-by-day, *Kronos Witold Gombrowicz) - - -
calls Emmanuel to be lent a black tie - - - joke, karate - -
not so funny - - - d'uh, belt - - - mourning band - - - - - - -
with a white ******* rotated 45° from that famous
re-interpretation - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - good something -
running for the bus - - - soldier's shoulder, sleep - - - - -
warden absent, waiting with a chatty doorman - - - - - - - -.
well it could work -this telegram style, it's the easiest style
to read, the Nova Express proves it, the Soft Machine
proves it, Naked Lunch proves it - the incoherent distraction,
well, coherently incoherent - sometimes you want to
see a tornado rather than an open stretch of road in a desert -
a ****** tornado - whirling and whirling with Loki
playing a flute - and something about the great milkman
being choked by a marshmallow monster in the sky -
or, of course, with the sensible people - an Ikea assembly
manual for a chair - with one but the most crucial ***** missing:
metaphor for the 10% books, that's 10% in, 20% up on sales
of audiobooks - hyper-readers, ages: 18-24 - 24-35 (21%) -
and then thick mud ahead, an opera of yawns and a gym
membership one tier above the no-fun zone of sometimes
an index wet and a judo flick of the page - or any other
comparison - but on the plus - and not another Walt Whitman
to come - #bangersandmash, and not another Pound
to come - #blues - in with the pretentious you say out
with the feral? maybe... maybe not - but all of this for only
one sentence: to be nervous over ethnicity and vocabulary -
shouldn't exist - to pursue active censorship of a person's
vocabulary is to undermine them completely -
when corporations copyright words because they're logos
i can understand - but people copyright words something's
obviously wrong, somehow i imagine corporate influence
at having taught this lesson - it should exist - or... in what tone?
but already, people what inoffensive and frail - they
want cushions but don't want stones - and it's every single
time - where once words flowed freely no words stumble
against everyone being politicised - it's hard to do your job
these days, whatever it might be - some would say once
the figurehead a throng of courtesans and you knew of importance,
you were so far away from the seat of power you enjoyed
one sq. mile rather than daydreaming about if you ruled
the world - cost-effective inefficiency of politics -
life? unaffected - and it's not even some glorious technique
behind it - the same children that lied have simply
learned to evolve lying into negation - ah, whatever, #blues,
#Rakı.

We swim in broadband dreams and stream along the microwaves and no-one save the sentinel,
who stands alone,outside the gates of hell can see that we are standing on the edge
of cliffs so high
the sky is numbed as we are numbered one by one
fall off the ledge,
then we are gone.
Jamming,
gamma rays like gattling guns that break through chests,where hearts that raced and ran and man,
no longer plans to break the stars or wake cathedrals,begging Jupiter or Mars to stamp upon,destroy
for all is gone where suns would go and solar winds would blow into the storm and morning never comes.

I hear the boys that beat the drums,more guns that speak and then destroy, the boys a part of marching bands that occupy these foreign lands and,
the sands beneath my feet were once a mountain range
how strange that we as men would fumble yet mountains though eternal crumble and yet it's true.
The sand is soft and trickles through my hands.

I have stood outside the railway stations patiently, and I have waited for the morning train and trained myself not to despair
of arriving where I would desire to be
and I wait patiently
as mountains fall around me ,
as cities rise,
more than skies are numbed as beggars *** from fellow men a cigarette and yet,familiar as this is and always seems to be
It's just another streaming broadband dream to me,
the train will come
the sun will rise
or we as man will not survive
and no reward for this,no kiss of death for thousand dollar lives that strive and will, or will as will, will only be the will that will survive.
I take five
survey
lay my head
play dead
and cry.

Now, here's the story of Rip Van Winkle
The true story, not the lie
They always want to hide the truth
I'll just never understand why

You see, Rip Van Winkle was married
To a woman, who always nagged
And that poor dude was bored all the time
Cause his internet always lagged

So, he climbed up in his recliner
And decided to take a little nap
When, out of the blue, the Sleeping Spider
Went and crawled up in his lap

Now, Rip knew about that spider
But still, he just couldn't resist
For if he let that spider bite him
They'd be no "honey do" list

Well, that spider sunk his fangs in
Then jumped back on the floor
It wasn't long, Rip closed his eyes
And man, that guy could snore

Now, a wicked smile even crossed his face
As he leaned back in his chair
For, when he awoke, she'd would be gone
But Rip, just simply didn't care

Well a hundred years just flew by
And his wife was surely dead
But when he finally opened his eyes
She lay beside him in the bed

She awoke while still clutching
"The list" for a hundred years
For the spider had bitten her also
And it brought the man to tears

But this story has a happy ending
Cause dial-up was a thing of the past
They decided to finally get broadband
And his internet was fast at last

I am actually a huge fan of Banksy and thoroughly enjoyed Dismaland but the A level kids I teach at a school just down the road from Weston couldn't get in because they've got Art P2. We wrote letters and sent emails but had no reply. They were very disillusioned by it all so their art teacher decided to take them to Dismaland and show some of their work on the grass outside. Security were not impressed and called the police. We made a film about it and I read this poem at the gates. This is the first part.
So this is where this tale will start,
Of What is Banksy? Who is art?
You're the joke now, don't you see?
This ****** ticket lottery,
For crazy cats who play the rules
Not you poor buggers stuck in schools
Can’t press refresh at the stroke of ten
Cos that's exactly the time when
the bell rings for art to begin
The irony is lost on him.
No tickets in your grubby hand
Cos schools cant afford the broadband.
Don't look at me with dismal faces
You lot sure are going places
Yep, you're all sat on a train
Going to weston in the rain
Who do you lot think you are?
No movie queens nor a rock star
You don't fly in from LA
You don't even have a card to pay
No Damien's, No Brad. No Suze.
Pack up your dreams kids,
Born to lose.
Like a load of buckets to the factory gate
Where we'll have to stand and stand and wait
He is not Wonka, he's not your friend,
This Charlie gets nothing in the end.
So looks like we might not get in,
Stare them down kids, take ours to him.
Banksy Inc. has made these choices,
But they can't silence all our voices.
Helllooooooo Banksy?
Are you there?
Going to show these kids you care?
Open up those hallowed portals
For this lot of mere mortals?
They've brought stuff they want to show
It's really very good you know
Because they made it from the heart
Not for a calendar of street art
You know? Like how you used to be?
Before they showed you on TV.
They protest about stuff for reals,
And soon be snapping at the heels
Of all the London folk in there
Sell for a million but pretend they care.
Come on Banksy they'll be good
Take their selfies like they should.
Come on Banksy, just be nice,
They'll snap up all your merchandise
And shuffle round the park like drones
Take out pocket money loans.
Listen kids, this isn't working,
Banksy's in his rolls and shirking,
We don't need to storm the walls
We can show them we've got *****
By standing here and giving free
What they've all spent five quid to see.

Must have...
off road parking
dishwasher
broadband
south facing garden
space
light
and you

Must have...
secure and rewarding employment
stimulation
time to myself
time apart
time with you
and you alone

Must have...
Something to look forward to
a challenge
quality time
a sense of worth
and you
always you

Must have...
a belief that it all means something
direction
freedom
a legacy of matter or reputation
and essentially you

Must have...
oxygen
salt
warmth
water
shelter
love
and you

I was the queen in quest of your dreaming teens  
You were in race to trace my grace of beaming beauty
Your shower of love was to catch my fragrant flower
Life was like amusing laser show for a major glow

A fresh breeze of life I felt in your lifelong lease of love
Your fast love at first sight was forthright, I saw it so
Your love was on a broadband channel, I surmised,
On high frequency at matching wave length you promised

Love was in fairy air you craved, cared n’ carried thru’
I molded to your mauls, for I rejoiced your choice  
I was mild and yielding as you stepped up wielding
Rendered and surrendered to your shabby game of love
You left the fruit of your lust in my lap in a decade’s gap.

Embroiled in undue deal, you now embraced
Unhealthy wealth than wealthy health
Lavish lust, peevish love and selfish life
Lo, love is to collate not to collide n’ collapse
I feel sad when our lad says my dad is bad

My love was one popped up from heart
Your love pepped up from crazy corner
The kid is keen to pick up your kiss
Welcome to hold me to your fold, don’t miss

All I need is your towering love
Not your quivering ivory tower.
All I wish you is not to rewind
Your tampered tape on kin akin

my dream house



you see my dream house is just by lake burley griffin

and as you walk in there is a coke machine at the top of

a big escalator, and at the bottom of that escalator there

are two doors, 1 door is the offices where people work and

on the other side there is my front door and i know it sounds like every

young persons fantasy, but as you enter, it was like, well the first thing you

see is the hat rack in front of the first door to the gymnasium which had a treadmill and a rower and a bike

and as  you walk further you enter the lounge room where there is

a nice comfy corner lounge and a LED TV and a big stereo where you can

listen to your favourite music and as you walk further, there is an internet station

where the computer is an apple with iPads and iPhones  and the internet server was

iinet wireless broadband, and as you walk further on, you see the kitchen where they had a built in

dishwasher and stove and fridge, and it had all the latest kitchen gadgets that money can buy, yeah

that sounds so cool and it has built in hot and cold water jets as well as normal tap water, and as you

walk further you see the bathroom with a shower sink and toilet with a clean air contraption, to get rid of

oopsy smells, and the bedroom was right near the other side window looking over the wonderful startrack oval

but i can’t see in because of the grandstands around it, and there was a walk in wardrobe which rarely got

messy, and i had round the clock help with cleaning and cooking, yeah this is absolute paradise, but it will

always remain just a dream house

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plagued by lethargy i am led through the internet
by an unseen monarch whose name is Boredom
until i go cross eyed

what does the good king Boredom seek?
not wenches or jesters or feasts to quaff.
the good king Boredom seeks to cease

but it isn't as easy as that
a battle looms...

Boredom rallies his armies with the deafening cry of a tyrant with a cause
and we descend with the dull and vacant hum of somebody who has work in the morning

storming the gates of the internet
we google things and browse youtube
we play meaningless games
and curse our broadband.

all while scrolling through a virtual popularity contest
a bottomless cesspit full of our hobbies, our thoughts, and pictures of us on holiday
we sit and judge eachother
the stench of jealousy and false smugness hang in the air
facebook is indeed, the great masquerade of our generation.

a battle ends
no wars are won
still the good king stands tall
still he looms. we are enthralled.

and so the cycle continues,
a swirling void of
acronyms and bigotry
of arguments and fallacies
no empathy, all lies.
stopping us from doing anything productive
or real

and like lambs to the slaughter
we are sent to our doom
by the good king Boredom
his cause is just, but he'll never learn

take advice from myself,
and instead of spending time doing something useless
find an outlet for your creativity
i ****** out a load of hyperbole
and here i am now
free of the Good Kings reign

Hi tech at breakneck, but
we all sweat the small stuff.

I've met enough in my time to fill up a book and on each page a rhyme.

But at the last of us
we'll all be back to
the abacus.

Who needs computers that shoot us so full of **** and bits that can byte us and who's always right?
us?

Thing is,
the screen sits like Jesus,
on the table it reads us,
promoting agendas and that's
what the end is.

Formula one
Algorithmic and intense it
kicks all the sense from us
and ladles in tables and ****
sites and my nights are far
from dull.

I understand the pull of it
Google and broadband sit within
spitting distance of God and it's odd
don't you think that each time you blink a light goes off down the Amazon.

( that takes a bit of imagination, but Firefox being in on the creation makes it sound good)

Jerusalem.

Bring me my beads and frames made from wire
bring me connections for the pyre
'cause in the end. all it will be
is the abacus and me.

in the age of super fast optic coptic broadband connectivity,
writing had to leave the lives of respectable corset donning girls
who’d lounge all day with balzac and long tennyson stanzas,
who’d read for relaxation...
sorry to break it to you huckleberry finn...
but reading these days is all about distraction...
distraction distraction distractions...
plenty of them in the “real” world too... it’s called the goldfish
salute... slàinte mhath... dheagh shlàinte...
next time you hear an advertisement don’t think of promotion
(that’s done through the ol’ word o’ mouth)...
think more on the lines: ailing company... ailments in general...
a public relations stunt... for those grandiose profit margins;
true that... when a man is sick, has a cold a fever,
he is prescribed paracetamol... when it's a company...
the economic model prescribes the medicine known as advertisement.

Working from home on my computer and taking phone calls from the public for a living
My office had me rostered to do the phones in the morning from 9.30 onwards
So I set my alarm clock for 10 to 9 to give me enough time to get up and get things ready,
But that night, for some reason, that night I just could not get to sleep
Wasn't that I was worried about anything, it's just sometimes I find it hard to sleep
Well, I tossed and I turned, I tried everything..., I counted sheep,  tried to hypnotize myself,
Finally I got up and made myself a large herbal tea sleep drink, used two tea bags double strength
Even took a tablet afterwards and even then... I still couldn't sleep
Finally... finally I do drop off but it's like I've only been sleeping like for two hours
And then the **** alarm clock goes off
And now it's morning and I really am tired and it's ****** freezing in my room
And I'm lovely and warm and snug in my bed,
So I say to my alarm clock "Aww give me another 5 minutes will ya!"
(And I still don't know how to use the snooze function on my alarm clock)
So I close my eyes and of course, in no time I've dropped off again
And I get this dream...
I dream I'm walking along this path
And there's these three big guys walking in front of me
It's like a father in the middle and his two big strapping sons either side of him,
But their walking kinda slow whereas I'm walking fast
So I pass them out and I say "hello" just as I'm passing, just to be friendly
Then as I'm walking ahead of them I can hear them making these snide little comments about me behind my back
'Well that's not very nice' I think to myself
Then the next thing I know, suddenly there's this big arm around my throat strangling me
And I hear them saying "Let's **** this ******!"
And I'm thinking "What!!! What the ****! these feckers their... their trying to **** me, what am I going to do!!!
Then I think, "This is serious! My life is on the line here, It's **** or be killed, you gotta do something, you gotta fight back
(Now I ain't no fighter)"
So I'm there wriggling around, punching and kicking wildly, trying desperately to break free, fighting for my life apparently
But what becomes evident pretty quickly is that these guys they don't appear to be very good fighters either
'Cos suddenly I find myself on top of the father guy
And I've got both my hands around his throat and I'm choking, I'm strangling him now
But of course, I've never killed anyone before
So I don't know what the hell I'm doing
I'm there thinking, how do you choke...how do you strangle someone
I wonder am I doing this right, Ugh! It's not very nice, it's pretty gruesome, his face is going all red, he doesn't look too happy, does he ?
And then I'm also wondering where's them other two feckers gone?"
Then I think "I don't like this, maybe there's a better way... maybe I should... maybe I should kick him in the head instead, that might be quicker, that might be better,
But then I think "Well that's not very nice either, kicking someone in the head, I wouldn't like someone kicking me in the head..."
Anyway suddenly then I wake up out of all this craziness
And I look at my clock and it's like 9.25
"****!!!", I say, "I'm supposed to be on the phones in 5 minutes!!!
So I get up in my pyjamas, rush to my computer room, hurriedly put in all the plugs and switch all the switches on
I know it's gonna take at least 7 or 8 minutes before the broadband/ WiFi comes on
So I'm never gonna make 9.30
I switch on my computer and my work phone
And put my pants on while I'm waiting for the WiFi
When it comes on I gotta log in and put in the passwords and then open up all the programs
So in all it's about 9.45 before I'm all set to go
But then of course my phone rings rather ominously and it's my Boss on the other end of the line and he doesn't sound very pleased
"Are you not on the phones!" he says, "the Phone Manager just rang me and said there's no one from our Unit manning the phones, you were rostered to be on the phones this morning"
So I say to him, "Look!!! They were trying to **** me Man, there was three of them in it
It was touch and go there for awhile,
I mean what could I do, it was **** or be killed, I had to fight 'em!"
"What are you talking about?", asks my Boss totally confused
"Nightmares man!! I was having a nightmare,  They were trying to **** me so I had to try and **** them back, What was I gonna do
I don't normally **** someone this early in the morning"
(Then I added) "Lucky I don't have a partner or I'd be up for ******".

Funny thing was the experience of fighting for my life in the dream
It seemed to carry me through the whole morning, even the day
I strangely didn't give a hoot about the phone calls coming in and what they might be asking me
The job it just seemed completely unreal compared to the experience I'd just had fighting for my life in the dream
And y'know it was good... so good to find that I was still alive... and back here again in the world.

I was the queen in quest of your dreaming teens  
You were in race to trace my grace of beaming beauty
Your shower of love was to catch my fragrant flower
Life was like amusing laser show for a major glow
  
A fresh breeze of life I felt in your lifelong lease of love
Your fast love at first sight was forthright, I saw it so
Your love was on a broadband channel, I surmised,
On high frequency at matching wave length you promised
  
Love was in fairy air you craved, cared n’ carried thru’
I molded to your mauls, for I rejoiced your choice  
I was mild and yielding as you stepped up wielding
Rendered and surrendered to your shabby game of love
You left the fruit of your lust in my lap in a decade’s gap.
  
Embroiled in undue deal, you now embraced
Unhealthy wealth than wealthy health
Lavish lust, peevish love and selfish life
Lo, love is to collate not to collide n’ collapse
I feel sad when our lad says my dad is bad
  
My love was one popped up from heart
Your love pepped up from crazy corner
The kid is keen to pick up your kiss
Welcome to hold me to your fold, don’t miss
  
All I need is your towering love
Not your quivering ivory tower.
All I wish you is not to rewind
Your tampered tape on kin akin

(20 minute poetry)

Can't get no internet
not connected to the web
computer looks quite sickly
think I'll call the vet.

It's dog eat dog when the
satellite is down,
when nothing appears on the screen and that smiley face shows a frown, but I have a plan to reconnect which I suspect is not legal,
I'm going to hotwire Telstar and fly like an eagle.

Broadband
never knows what the left hand can do and when I follow through with the plan and become the free internet man the money I save on the cost of connection will go into a different subscription like a charity or a magazine anything but the clever machine which we call the World Wide Web.

With devil on broadway
and IT on broadband
remember the algorithm
is not your friend
fine tune these narratives
be vigilant and stay strong
Join the club
write a poem
fight the wrong

It pains me to say that it's raining today, just another hoop to get through, wet through and no umbrella, need a shell, a hood.
a hell of a way to wake when the day's like a lake and you don't fancy swimming.

Women,
ah
women I fancy like,
Joan,
Maud and Nancy make the Sun shine,
but at this time of day they are dreaming away
and it's raining outside.

As wide or as tall or as short
I go on for too long and I know
this is wrong.

In the internet
I have met a friend
silent and knowing
with me to the end
of the contract I made with
the broadband provider.

It's still lashing it down
the rain's still
whipping the ground and
if you listen
you'll hear me
messing around
with the radio.

Don’t you remember when you could go out to dinner and be seen?
Don’t you remember when you weren’t talking to a screen?
Neither do I
I look around to see people’s faces
Just to find them looking down
Those screens are consuming
Our connections are weakening
And no, I’m not talking Wireless, Broadband, or DSL
I’m talking about our families, friends, and even nature
Sure, technology is helpful in many ways
But have you realized how much we are on it every day?
An hour or 3, maybe even 4
Our thumbs constantly moving
Eyes constantly scrolling
Fingers constantly liking
Take a minute to go see a sunset
And not just in a photo
Take a minute to really enjoy it
Is there a feeling of relaxation
Don’t you like not looking through a screen?
Let’s lift up our heads once in a while
Talk to family and friends
Because we never really know when they’ll be gone.
This wasn’t meant to scrutinize others
But to give them some time to think
Because as we all know,
Our Connections are weakening

I was the queen in quest of your dreaming teens  
You were in race to trace my grace of beaming beauty
Your shower of love was to catch my fragrant flower
Life was like amusing laser show for a major glow

A fresh breeze of life I felt in your lifelong lease of love
Your fast love at first sight was forthright, I saw it so
Your love was on a broadband channel, I surmised,
On high frequency at matching wave length you promised

Love was in fairy air you craved, cared n’ carried thru’
I molded to your mauls, for I rejoiced your choice  
I was mild and yielding as you stepped up wielding
Rendered and surrendered to your shabby game of love
You left the fruit of your lust in my lap in a decade’s gap.

Embroiled in undue deal, you now embraced
Unhealthy wealth than wealthy health
Lavish lust, peevish love and selfish life
Lo, love is to collate not to collide n’ collapse
I feel sad when our lad says my dad is bad

My love was one popped up from heart
Your love pepped up from crazy corner
The kid is keen to pick up your kiss
Welcome to hold me to your fold, don’t miss

All I need is your towering love
Not your quivering ivory tower.
All I wish you is not to rewind
Your tampered tape on kin akin

In this world we live in
countries celebrate and glorify
the accomplishment of
exceeding a cellphone's broadband.

I understand this means
the country is developing
but it also says a lot
about who we are now.

WHERE HAS HUMANITY GONE TO?

What happened to written letters
or sad goodbyes
with sloppy kisses
and a promise to never forget?

What happened to the urgency
to see someone after a long time
rather than see them online,
pretending they are here?

Where is the human warmth
in spending a dinner together
without a single person
touching their mobile phones?

WHAT HAPPENED TO HUMANITY?
WHY ARE WE CELEBRATING THIS?

As technology goes up,
humanity goes down.

I think you can say,
humanity is inversely proportioned
to technology.

The wires sing on and each song is a poem of loss or belonging, the heartbeat and blood of a man in one line or two of a telegram, the dotting and dashing where each message is smashing a life or is not and the wires get hot with the high frequency flow, long ago in another flow when the World was at war, the wires saw and heard things of which they still sing about in another time far removed from the web and the internet ebb.

Across the wide open spaces where the wires tightly laced the Cities together and the songs that they sang rang out loud and clear there is nothing left to see, not even the sockets they pocketed the posts in and as broadband expands there'll be even less to see and no songs sung, the bell has rung for the end of a day.
and Sam goes on his way.

Apparently
you can see a GP
in minutes
for free

load of nonsense
if you ask me
I think
they should put on the advertisement
see a GP at the the end of all
time
especially if you have a broadband
connection like mine

and no doubt I'll be at the end
of the line then.

man, I go into a studio

usb microphone, apple laptop, electric guitar, rhthm machine

charging cord and energy drink

fuss over the equipment, left in two arms

my room is room six today, boy, I have forever to sing

I sing alternative rock, rock songs, traditional songs

it feels very good, I even call my mother

what's you favorite song?

I wish I was billy joe, yeah because he plays so well

but I am a spearhead, I am a gypsy, I am nintendo
I am Nick caves' son

I am Bob Dylan's son

I am a crooner that writes the lyrics, I am a prince with the oozing blue ropes

I write a song, like this..

rotation and rhthym, call command

and let's float through the broadband.

wakened to harsh stereos,

gloating and gushing, the current still hits the silence long after the house songs have ended

this one will between your knuckles,

and sooth, you have an aching finger

now it is moosed with jello

have you found your raspberry center?

now JOLT

You are a dream

catcher

and be the scenic

oozing faster,

and olympic athletes

will note your

Center,

now where''s your head at?  Salamander

Genre, boomer quotidian score
settling or keeping, distinctions

everything, afterthought-wise,
everything never matters close up.

The reason's religions allow wars,
is tribute, dues paid the guardians
who catch on.

The only germ of the originating thought re
public is lost to my instant recollection
app, Socrates, necessary lie.
I wait microsecs for satisfaction, when did I
become guiled, erst while guilt, beguiled, but

I knew, did I not, I knew, I was in on the trick,
O, yeah, prognostification is unholy, art
to the Nth degree, wordwise,
that's real bad. Evil, even
literal exposure use inevitable-if
a little intuition, seeing what tomorrow
becomes, after we hope for better,
people here, after everbefore, now,
we agree to hope broadband better, ever

before you had a chance to read this, yes, ever was